


of falling snow

by Ireliss



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 17:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2356988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ireliss/pseuds/Ireliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jade, Nephry, and seven years of avoiding important conversations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of falling snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DimensionSlip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DimensionSlip/gifts).



i.

By the time Nephry truly approached him, most of the guests had dispersed, eager to make their way home before they were caught up in the oncoming snowstorm.

“Thank you for coming,” Nephry said. She was smiling (slight, cordial, as proper and polite as the noblewomen of Grand Chokmah), and Jade smiled in return, mirroring her expression perfectly.

“I wouldn’t dream of missing your wedding day.” Except he had - many times, in fact - and the slight quirk of Nephry’s lips told him she knew that as well. But to her credit, she chose not to call him out on it. Jade was grateful; he didn’t need to hear about how it must have been difficult for him to return to Keterburg.

Especially not from Nephry, on today of all days.

They fell into silence after that, not the comfortable sort he sometimes shared with Peony, but the tense, restless kind, with too much to say and no one willing to begin. For lack of anything else to do, Jade turned to look out the window. The snow was falling more thickly than ever, white and crystalline, a sharp contrast to the warm light of the ballroom. Beside him, Nephry’s reflection appeared pale, her expression quiet and resigned now that the prying eyes of the public were gone.

They spoke at the same time.

“Jade – “

“Are you – “

Nephry made a quelling gesture with her hands. “You first.” And because this _was_ her wedding day, Jade obliged.

“It’s nothing terribly important. I was just thinking that it’s been a long day. Would you like to rest? Or sit down, at the very least.”

Over the past few years, Jade had learnt the importance of observing other people. He had taught himself how to discern motives and emotions, but even if he hadn’t, it was unlikely he would have missed the surprise that flashed over Nephry’s face, followed quickly by a wary guardedness in her eyes.

But it only lasted for a second. Then she was smiling graciously again. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

_She’s changed,_ Jade realized, but it was hardly a surprise. They had all changed, the four of them, since those days of snowball fights and reckless adventures.

“Are you sure?” He asked, referring to more than her physical state.

Wariness flickered in her eyes again, and Jade had to wonder just how much of a monster he had been in his childhood, to make his own sister so cautious around him.

Finally she nodded, just a slow little dip of her head. “Yes. I’ll rest later, with my husband. He’s a kind man. We’re both glad to see the Score fulfilled.” This time, however, she barely masked her weariness, and Jade could hardly fail to note that she didn’t even refer to Osborne by name.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He hoped he didn’t sound too sarcastic.

There was a hint of amusement in her voice as she replied, “Are you?”

Jade met her wry smile with a self-deprecating one of his own. “Of course. I’m quite the devout follower of the Order of Lorelei nowadays. The Curtiss family made sure I visited all the monuments.”

“Jade…” For the first time, her smile fell away completely. “You don’t approve.”

She was right; he didn’t. He wanted Nephry to be happy. He couldn’t empathise; he had never experienced anything like the bond his sister and his emperor shared, but he knew enough about human emotion to see that she was deeply unhappy despite her attempts to appear otherwise.

“It doesn’t matter.” Nephry would not appreciate false reassurances, so he kept to the truth. “You made the correct decision. We can’t all shirk our duties.” Even if he could understand why Peony wanted to do so.

Her eyes widened again. “I – thank you. I think.” Then she laughed, quiet and startled. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting – never mind. Don’t tell me you really are religious nowadays.”

“I never lie.” Honestly curious, he added, “Though if you don’t mind saying, what were you expecting?”

“Hmm.” Nephry looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure. Telling me I should do as I please, maybe.”

Jade almost winced. “Ah yes, I was quite the headstrong child.” Perhaps he had changed more than he had realized. The thought was a comforting one.

“You could say that.” Suddenly, she rested her hand on his shoulder. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m glad you came.”

For the first time, Jade felt a twinge of guilt for all that time he had spent deliberating over whether or not to attend. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, and Nephry withdrew her hand. He pretended not to notice. “It was an…enjoyable night. I wish you two all the best.”

“You’re too kind.” She was all polite smiles again. “Will you be staying the night in Keterburg?”

“I’m afraid not, I have to get back to the capital. My ship leaves later tonight.”

He waited for her to say something along the lines of ‘give my regards to Peony’, but she only nodded. “Have a safe trip.” She hesitated, then tentatively added, “You’re always welcome if you want to come back and visit.”

“Perhaps at a later date.” It was a declination, and they both knew it. Nephry nodded again, expression soft in a way that he couldn’t read clearly. She half-opened her mouth, as if to say something, but stopped and forced another smile. Jade was beginning to tire of them. He knew – better than anyone, perhaps – how to use smiles as a defence mechanism, but having them used against him was aggravating in a way he couldn’t put words to. It would be much later before he realized his annoyance was directed at himself.

* * *

When he left, the snow was flurrying down in droves, erasing his footprints behind him.

 

 

 

**ii.**

When Luke’s footsteps finally faded away into silence, Jade rose to his feet. Keterburg was freezing in the day; by night it was glacial. He had to suppress a shiver as he stepped out of the hotel and onto the street. It had barely changed. The same fonstone streetlamps kept the road illuminated with a familiar yellow glow, and the chilly wind that bit at the exposed skin of his face seemed to carry with it the sound of children’s laughter.

It was a ridiculous thought, of course. There should be no children out at this time of the night.

His steps quick and sure, he strode along the gently curving path towards the governor’s residence, head dipped low and shoulders slightly hunched now that there was nobody around to observe him. Snow had begun to fall, lightly dusting his hair and sliding off the thick, waterproof fabric of his uniform. Jade suppressed another shiver, and smiled wryly at his weakness. He had been away for too long.

The door to the building swung open easily under his touch. So, he was expected. Nephry’s secretary had long since left for the night, leaving Jade to knock on the door to the study himself, with the same three sharp raps he had always used.

A pause, then: “Come in.”

He opened the door, but didn’t step into the room yet. Nephry had risen to her feet, her expression carefully composed; she no longer looked like a demure noblewoman, but more like one of Peony’s advisers: strong, confident, discerning.

“Brother,” she greeted him before he could speak. “Can I help you?”

“I hope I’m not intruding,” he replied smoothly. “I was wondering if you have some time? I’d like to go on a walk; it’s been awhile since I’ve had a chance to see the city.” He did not trust the office; too many years of being in Grand Chokmah had taught him to be wary of prying ears.

Nephry stared at him, still polite, still formal, but he could almost see the way she was puzzling over his motives. Finally, she nodded.

“Let me fetch my coat. Do you need anything? You look…rather cold.”

He smiled, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I’m fine.”

But she brought him a scarf anyway. It felt warm and soft around his neck as they walked and spoke, both carefully avoiding the topics that truly mattered. The snow fell around them in light, downy flakes, muffling the sounds of their conversation.

Finally, during a period of silence, he said, “You told Luke.”

“I did.” She sounded as calm as he did.

Their eyes met. Nephry’s gaze slid away from his, but only for a second, then she was meeting his eyes squarely again. She looked defiant, grimly determined in a way that reminded Jade of their youth, during that time when she had told their parents about his excursions to Mt Roneal and made them forbid him from going.

Not that he had listened.

“I see,” he said simply. Silence fell again. He watched her, trying to see past her formal exterior to gauge her thoughts, knowing that she was also doing the same.

After a moment, Nephry sighed. “Is that why you brought us out here? To discuss this?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He adjusted his glasses, a little delay while he organizes his thoughts. Why _had_ he come? He had felt a duty to visit her, but the specifics of it eluded him still.

Nephry was not deterred. “Explain.”

Jade was not good with explanations; had never been, especially when they concerned something personal. One needed to understand something to explain it well, and he found that he rarely understood his own feelings. “I suppose…” Being forthright went against his ingrained habits, but for Nephry, he made the effort, even if he would have been hard-pressed to explain _why_ if asked. “I simply wanted to reassure you.”

“Reassure me?” She echoed, guarded.

Now that those first words were out, he finally understood. “Yes. I know you have your concerns, but I no longer wish to resurrect the Professor.”

Nephry came to a complete stop, her eyes wide. Looking around, Jade realized they were in the town square with its igloos and snowball machines, the favourite playground of Keterburg’s children. It was deserted at this time of the night, but simply standing there sent powerful waves of nostalgia surging over him. He could almost see the Professor…

He was jolted out of his memories by Nephry’s voice. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You sound sincere, but – “

It was no easy task to regain trust once it had been lost. That was the way it should be.

“It’s alright, I understand. I was quite caught up in my obsession.” Carefully and deliberately, he added, “It’s thanks to His Majesty that I stopped. I think he informed you about the incident?”

“Yes. His Majesty was…very concerned.” She didn’t refer to Peony by name, but her voice and expression hadn’t wavered. Jade took it as a good sign. “But he hadn’t gone into any great detail about it.”

“There wasn’t much to say.” A blatant lie, but Jade had no interest in discussing his utter lack of comprehension at death, which lingered even now. Nephry was already familiar with that quirk of his; he didn’t need to give her more reason to worry. “He simply convinced me of his point of view. Logic and brute force made quite an effective combination.”

Nephry laughed, but he could tell that she was still uneasy, and he capitalised on that.

“Although you’re not entirely wrong to worry.”

The mood abruptly shifted. “What do you mean?”

“Dist.” Seeing the confused look on Nephry’s face, he clarified. “Saphir. He’s still obsessed with reviving the Professor.”

“Ah.” She hesitated. “He’s been causing you some trouble, hasn’t he?”

“Indeed. I don’t think he’ll target you, but I would advise that you be careful just in case. He’s determined to return to the old days.”

Nephry frowned. “You think he means us harm? I don’t believe it.”

“Well, his presence is annoying enough to be harmful…” Nephry frowned disapprovingly, and Jade spread his arms out in a shrug. “Honestly? I can’t say. He may be violent if provoked, and since we have no intention of cooperating with him…”

“Why not?”

Jade looked at her in disbelief. “Surely you can’t be thinking of helping him.”

“Not in bringing back the Professor, obviously.” She shook her head, forestalling his arguments. “He _is_ our friend. He’s…misguided, that’s all.”

“It would be more accurate to call him deluded.”

Something flashed in Nephry’s eyes. “Misguided,” she insisted, and although she hadn’t raised her voice, Jade could hear the growing frustration in there all the same. “He needs your support, Jade.”

It wasn’t something Jade liked being reminded of. “I’m not his keeper,” he pointed out. “In fact, he chose to leave me.”

“Only because – “ Nephry stopped herself, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’d really rather not argue today.”

Jade would rather not discuss the topic _any_ day, but he kept the thought to himself. Instead, he raised an eyebrow. “Is there any particular reason for that?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “I doubt you’d understand.”

As curious as he was, something about her demeanour was so tired that he decided not to push any further. “I see.”

Another of her forced smiles made an appearance. “It’s a bit silly anyway. But it’s getting late. We should probably get some rest.”

The snowfall had been increasing in intensity while they stood. By the time he dropped Nephry off at her residence and began heading back to the hotel, it came down in heavy drifts, soaking through the scarf Nephry had given him.

(The next day, he found a notification of his death tucked in among the papers at his desk on-board the Tartarus. Nephry must have put it there, but for what reason, he could not say.)

 

 

 

**iii.**

“I didn’t expect you to agree to taking a vacation,” Nephry commented as she poured tea for both of them.

Jade lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “I didn’t have much choice. His Majesty threatened to burn all my paperwork if I didn’t leave.”

It wasn’t a lie, but neither was it the real reason he had decided to return to Keterburg.

Nephry made a noncommittal sound, and sipped at her tea. “Well.” And, almost hurriedly: “I’m glad you’re here.”

Jade frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“No, no,” she reassured him hastily. “There’s just been a lot going on these past few months. His Majesty did his best to keep me up to date, but you know how slowly word gets to Keterburg. I’ve just been a little worried, I think. And – “

When she hesitated, he prompted her. “And?”

Carefully, she said, “Do you remember, a few months ago, you came to Keterburg asking after some documents on Professor Nebilim?”

“Ah yes, about that…” He could see why that may have been a cause for alarm – they _had_ been searching for a devastatingly powerful fonic arte, after all. It was natural for Nephry to be worried about him wielding that kind of power. “Unfortunately, our search was a failure.”

“Your search?” She looked confused. “Oh – the fonic arte?”

Now it was Jade’s turn to be confused. “You weren’t asking after that?”

“No.” She seemed…exasperated, almost, but Jade couldn’t figure out why. “I was wondering if you found out anything more about Professor Nebilim.”

… _Ah._

He explained the situation as quickly and clearly as possible, watching Nephry’s expression all the while. It was difficult to read. She had an excellent pokerface, and so much had happened, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was too much to take in.

When he was done, he sat back and waited. The sky outside was cold and dark, entirely still save for the gently drifting snowflakes. But Nephry’s study was cosy. A fire crackled brightly in the hearth, shedding cheery light over the entire room, and the teacup felt pleasantly warm in his bare hands.

“I see,” Nephry said at last, after a few moments of silence. “So Professor Nebilim is finally resting in peace.”

“I hope so.” He thought about Luke, about the value of life and death, about guilt and atonement. “No, I’m sure of it.”

He had learnt the lessons that the Professor wanted him to learn, after all, even if it had taken another death to do so. She would have been proud of him – not that he deserved it.

Nephry was quiet, but she didn’t seem upset. Just – thoughtful, perhaps a little melancholic. “And Saphir’s alive. That’s…good. I was so shocked when I heard he had died at the Tower of Rem.”

Just a few months ago, he might have disagreed with her assessment. Now, he only nodded. “Although he’s not entirely out of danger yet. Daath wants to execute him.”

“You’re – you’re not going to let that happen, are you?”

“No. We have need of him.” Jade curled his fingers more tightly around the handle of the teacup. The whole purpose of this trip was to tell Nephry what he had been up to, but now that the time had come, he felt almost apprehensive. “We’re – that is, _I_ want to resume fomicry research.”

Nephry’s reaction was instantaneous. She half-rose to her feet, palms flat against the table. “What? You just told me Professor Nebilim’s at peace!”

He continued quickly. “I did. Don’t worry, I know the dead can’t come back. This is for the replicas alive now.”

She sat down again, but her eyes were still suspicious. “That’s still a big decision to make.”

“His Majesty told me as much.”

“He approves of this?” She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over his. “What prompted the change?”

Jade took a long, slow sip of his tea. It was an intensely personal question to ask, but Nephry deserved the truth. “Let’s just say that children can teach you a surprisingly large number of things.”

She seemed to understand. “Luke.” Then, quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“He chose to sacrifice himself for the world.” The tea was heavy and bitter on his tongue. He swallowed, frowning. “It’s only right that I try to carry on his ideals. If he does return, I hope it will be to a better world.”

“…Do you think he’ll be back?”

He set the teacup down with a _clink._ “Honestly? No.” That was what all the factual evidence pointed to, after all. He had made his peace with it, even if his chest still ached at the thought, but he knew that too will pass with time. “But he promised he would. Luke is…surprisingly resilient. I hope he’ll manage to surprise me once again.”

Nephry looked at the fireplace, the carpet, anywhere except his face. “I never thought I’d hear you say something like that. You’ve changed.”

“Everything changes.” Less than a year ago, they were still governed by the Score. Less than a year ago, he was still shackled to the past, even if it was in a different way from Saphir. “What about you?”

She tensed. “What do you mean?”

He steepled his fingers. “You know perfectly well what I mean. The Score is gone. You’re free to do as you please.”

For a moment, he wondered if he had been too aggressive in his approach, as he watched her shoulders slump and noted the shakiness of her hand as she combed through her hair.

“I know,” she finally said, in a voice just above a whisper. “But it’s been so long. And I have responsibilities here too. The people don’t need even more change, not after they’ve just been through so much upheaval.”

He sipped at the tea again. “I see.” He had no plans to pressure her, so he switched to a more neutral topic. “Speaking of the Score, I hope the Order of Lorelei loyalists haven’t been giving you too much trouble.”

* * *

By the time they said their goodbyes, the tea had long since gone cold, and the fire was beginning to die down.

“You’ll come again, won’t you?” Nephry asked, as she helped him into his coat.

Jade smiled easily, wrapping his scarf around his neck. “When time permits. It may be awhile yet.”

“Alright.” She twined their fingers together lightly, then let go. “I’ll see you then.”

The snowfall had stopped while they had been talking. It was a clear night, entirely still and silent save for the crunch of his footsteps as he walked back to the inn. But despite the frigid air that surrounded him, he felt strangely warm.


End file.
